^87 

GIF- 
Prof.    C.    A.    Kofoid 


S3 


ANN  PHILLIPS 


WIFE  OF  WENDELL  PHILLIPS 


a 


BOSTON 

Printed  far  JDrtoafe  Ctwttlatton 

1886 


E4-49 


Copyright,  1886. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge  : 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  0.  Houghton  &  Co. 


ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 


ANN  PHILLIPS,  wife  of  Wendell  Phillips,  died 
at  her  residence,  No.  37  Common  Street,  Boston, 
on  the  evening  of  Saturday,  April  24,  1886,  after 
an  invalidism  which  had  kept  her  closely  confined 
to  her  house  for  the  greater  part  of  fifty  years. 
She  was  born  in  Boston  on  the  19th  of  November, 
1813,  and  was  a  daughter  of  the  late  Benjamin 
Greene,  of  this  city,  and  Mary  Grew  (from  Bir 
mingham,  England),  his  wife.1  They  both  died  in 
middle  life,  leaving  a  large  family  of  young  chil 
dren,  of  whom  Mrs.  Phillips  was  the  last  survivor. 
Soon  after  the  death  of  her  parents  she  was  re 
ceived  as  a  daughter  into  the  family  of  her  uncle 
and  aunt,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henry  Chapman,  then  liv 
ing  in  Chauncy  Place,  near  Summer  Street ;  and 
when,  in  the  year  1834,  the  entire  Chapman  fam 
ily  espoused  the  despised  and  unpopular  cause  of 
the  slave,  and  allied  themselves  with  Mr.  Garrison 
and  his  little  band  of  adherents,  this  beautiful  and 
interesting  young  girl  ardently  sympathized  with 
them,  and  threw  herself  heart  and  soul  into  the 
movement.  Her  zeal  and  enthusiasm  were  unflag- 

1  John  Grew,  the  father  of  Mary  Grew,  was  a  friend  and 
townsman  of  Dr.  Joseph  Priestley,  and  warmly  sympathized 
with  him  in  his  advanced  and  liberal  ideas. 


MU1464 


4\       ;   ;  AlA'JV  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 

ging,  and  if  her  uncertain  health  prevented  her 
taking;  so ;  c(ortspi<uious  a  part  as  some  others,  she 
was  nevertheless  a  most  valuable  and  valued  ally, 
clear-sighted,  wise  in  counsel,  brave  and  hopeful  in 
the  darkest  hours.  In  social  circles  her  brightness, 
vivacity,  and  ready  conversational  powers  made 
her  a  general  favorite,  and  she  improved  every 
opportunity  to  present  and  urge  the  arguments 
of  the  Abolitionists,  and  to  convert  the  hostile 
and  the  timid  who  would  consent  to  listen  to  them. 
It  was  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  when  Wen 
dell  Phillips,  whose  interest  in  the  anti-slavery 
movement  had  been  awakened  by  Mrs.  Child's 
"Appeal,"  and  strengthened  by  the  sight  of  the 
Garrison  Mob,  met  Miss  Greene,  he  was  soon  con 
vinced  by  her  fervid  appeals  that  the  cause  de 
manded  not  merely  sympathy  and  occasional  help 
from  him,  but  a  life-long  consecration,  to  the  exclu 
sion  of  all  worldly  considerations ;  and  it  was 
equally  natural  that  he  found  the  personal  charms 
of  a  young  lady  inspired  and  fairly  aglow  with 
such  high  moral  themes,  irresistible.  The  same 
year  (1836)  that  witnessed  his  engagement  to  Ann 
Greene  was  marked  by  his  first  speech  on  an  anti- 
slavery  platform,  at  Lynn,  Mass.,  and  it  was 
shortly  after  their  marriage  in  the  following  year 
that  he  made  that  brilliant  speech  at  the  Love- 
joy  meeting  in  Faneuil  Hall,  which  placed  him  at 
once  in  the  first  rank  of  orators,  and  from  which 
his  public  career  properly  dates. 

Of  Mr.  Phillips's  unbounded  admiration  and  love 


ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS.  5 

for  his  wife,  of  his  chivalrous  devotion  to  her,  and 
absolute  self-abnegation  through  the  more  than 
forty-six  years  of  their  married  life,  and  of  his  oft- 
confessed  indebtedness  to  her  for  her  wise  counsel 
and  inspiration,  matchless  courage,  and  unswerving 
constancy,  the  world  knows  in  a  general  way ;  but 
only  those  who  have  been  intimately  acquainted 
with  them  both  can  fully  realize  and  appreciate  it 
all.  They  also  know  how  ardent  was  her  affection 
for  him,  and  how  great  her  pride  in  his  labors  and 
achievements.  There  are  some  charming  glimpses 
of  her  feelings  towards  him  in  the  letters  which  she 
wrote  to  near  friends  during  the  early  years  of  her 
marriage,  before  the  pen  became  so  wearisome  to 
her  that  she  allowed  it  to  fall  into  disuse.  "  My 
better  three-quarters"  she  called  him  frequently. 
It  was  evidently  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight  on  her 
part,  no  less  than  on  his,  for  —  "  When  I  first  met 
Wendell,"  she  wrote,  "  I  used  to  think,  '  it  can 
never  come  to  pass ;  such  a  being  as  he  is  could 
never  think  of  me.'  I  looked  upon  it  as  something 
as  strange  as  fairy-tale."  And  on  her  first  birth 
day  after  her  marriage  she  wrote  to  a  relative  as 
follows :  — 

"November  19,  1837.  Do  you  remember  it  is 
Ann  Terry's  birthday,  and  that  I  am  so  aged  ?  I 
think  I  feel  younger  than  that  seventeenth  birthday 
eve.  What  piteous  expressions  I  used,  as  if  I  had 
almost  completed  threescore  and  ten !  .  .  .  Only 
last  year,  on  my  sick-bed,  I  thought  I  should  never 
see  another  birthday,  and  I  must  go  and  leave  him 


6  ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 

in  the  infancy  of  our  love,  in  the  dawn  of  my  new 
life  ;  and  how  does  to-day  find  me  ?  —  the  blessed 
and  happy  wife  of  one  I  thought  I  should  never 
perhaps  live  to  see.  Thanks  be  to  God  for  all  his 
goodness  to  us,  and  may  he  make  me  more  worthy 
of  my  Wendell !  I  cannot  help  thinking  how  little 
I  have  acquired,  and  Wendell,  only  two  years  older, 
seems  to  know  a  world  more,  — • 

'  That  still  my  wonder  grew, 
How  one  small  head  could  carry  all  he  knew.' " 

With  all  this  ardent  admiration  of  her  husband's 
powers,  and  modest  depreciation  of  her  own,  she 
possessed  a  keen  insight,  a  sure  instinct,  and  a 
sound  judgment  as  to  measures  and  principles, 
which  he  ever  recognized  and  deferred  to,  and  she 
often  discussed  with  him,  before  he  left  her  to  at 
tend  a  convention  or  deliver  an  address,  the  aspects 
of  the  question  which  she  felt  he  ought  specially 
to  urge  and  emphasize.  He  cared  more  for  her 
criticism  and  her  approval  than  for  all  the  plau 
dits  of  the  admiring  thousands  who  were  stirred  by 
his  marvellous  oratory. 

In  June,  1839,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Phillips  went 
abroad  and  remained  two  years,  spending  their  win 
ters  on  the  Continent,  and  their  summers  in  Great 
Britain,  where  they  enjoyed  meeting  the  choice  cir 
cle  of  Abolitionists  who  were  in  close  sympathy 
and  affiliation  with  their  American  brethren.  Note 
worthy  among  these  were  Elizabeth  Pease,  a  noble 
young  Quaker  lady  of  Darlington,  England,  and 
Richard  D.  Webb,  of  Dublin,  also  a  Quaker,  and 


ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS.  1 

one  of  the  most  genial  and  witty  of  men.  With 
Miss  Pease  a  close  friendship  sprang  up,  followed 
by  an  intimate  correspondence  which  continued  for 
years  after  they  returned  to  America,  and  they 
spent  as  much  time  as  possible  in  her  society  and 
companionship. 

In  September,  1839,  they  were  at  Lyons,  and 
the  ensuing  winter  they  devoted  to  Rome,  whence 
Mr.  Phillips  wrote,  on  the  5th  of  January,  1840  : 

"  It  seems  useless  to  catalogue  interesting  ob 
jects,  so  numerous  are  they  here ;  yet  catalogues 
are  more  eloquent  than  descriptions.  The  Caesars' 
palace  speaks  for  itself.  To  stand  in  the  Pantheon, 
on  which  Paul's  eyes  may  have  rested,  what  needs 
one  more  to  feel  ?  We  have  been  up  Trajan's  Pil 
lar  by  the  very  steps  the  old  Roman  feet  once  trod ; 
rode  over  the  pavement  on  which  Constantine  en 
tered  in  triumph ;  seen  the  Colosseum  (I  by  moon 
light,  and  heard  the  '  dog  bay,'  though  not  4  beyond 
the  Tiber  '  that  I  know  of)  ;  lost  ourselves  in  that 
little  world  of  dazzling,  bewildering  beauty,  the 
Vatican,  where  the  Laocoon  breathes  in  never-end 
ing  agony,  and  eternal  triumph  beams  from  the 
brow  of  the  Apollo.  We  have  dived  into  Titus's 
baths,  and  the  half -buried  ruins  of  Nero's  '  Golden 
house,'  where  the  frescoes  are  blooming  and  fresh 
after  eighteen  hundred  years." 

In  June  they  were  back  in  London  to  attend  the 
World's  Anti-Slavery  Convention,  to  which  they 
had  both  been  appointed  delegates  by  the  Massa 
chusetts  Anti-Slavery  Society ;  but  Mrs.  Phillips, 


8  ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 

with  her  sister  delegates  (Lucretia  Mott,  Mary 
Grew,  Sarah  Pugh,  Abby  Kimber,  Elizabeth  Neall, 
and  Emily  Winslow),  was  denied  admission  on  the 
ground  of  sex.  "  Don't  shilly-shally,  Wendell !  " 
was  her  injunction  to  her  husband  when  he  went 
into  the  convention  to  contend  for  the  right  of  the 
women  to  take  their  seats  in  it,  and  manfully  he 
argued  their  cause ;  but  bigotry  prevailed,  and  they 
were  compelled  to  go  into  the  gallery  as  spectators, 
instead  of  on  the  floor  as  members.  The  social 
enjoyments  of  the  month  were  many  and  constant, 
however,  and  in  the  delightful  society  of  the  friends 
named  above,  of  Mr.  Garrison,  Nathaniel  P.  Rog 
ers,  and  other  American  delegates,  and  of  Miss 
Pease,  George  Thompson,  and  Richard  D.  Webb, 
with  opportunities  for  meeting  scores  of  eminent 
and  philanthropic  men  and  women  whose  reputa 
tions  were  world-wide,  the  weeks  slipped  away  all 
too  rapidly.  After  the  convention  was  over  they 
went,  in  July,  by  way  of  Belgium  and  the  Rhine,  to 
Kissingen,  in  Bavaria,  in  the  vain  hope  that  the 
waters  there  would  prove  beneficial  to  Mrs.  Phillips. 
Describing  their  journey  thither,  Mr.  Phillips  wrote 
(August  6,  1840)  :  — 

"  To  Americans  it  was  specially  pleasant  to  see, 
at  Frankfort,  the  oldest  printed  Bible  in  the  world, 
and  two  pair  of  Luther's  shoes !  ! !  which  Ann 
would  not  quit  sight  of  till  I  had  mustered  bad 
German  enough,  by  aid  of  memory  and  dictionary 
and  some  mixing  of  French,  to  ask  the  man  to  let 
the  '  little  girl '  feel  of  them.  So,  being  permitted 


ANN  TERRY   GREENE  PHILLIPS.  9 

to  hold  the  great  man's  slippers  in  her  own  hands, 
the  man  watching  to  see  she  did  not  vanish  with 
them,  the  '  Delegate  from  Massachusetts '  was  con 
tented  to  leave  the  room.  But  she'll  speak  for 
herself." 

The  letter  is  addressed  to  Elizabeth  Pease,  and 
Mrs.  Phillips  adds  :  "  We  are  settled  down  in  this 
little,  quiet  village,  and  strange  indeed  it  is  after 
the  busy  London  hours.  How  much  we  enjoyed 
there !  Even  I  have  a  world  to  look  back  upon, 
though  I  was  able  to  take  but  little  share  in  the 
rich  feasts  of  heart  and  mind.  It  was  the  remark 
of  the  great  physician  Hunter  that  he  should  be 
happy  through  eternity  if  God  would  but  let  him 
muse  upon  all  he  had  seen  and  learnt  in  this  world. 
So  what  a  never-ending  store  of  recollection  you 
will  have  in  this  visit  from  those  you  have  so  long 
known  (though  not  face  to  face).  How  hallowed 
will  be  to  you  the  memory  of  those  hours  of  com 
munion  with  such  a  being  as  Garrison !  I  thought 
you  could  not  but  love  him." 

The  waters  of  Briickenau,  another  Bavarian  spa, 
proved  no  more  beneficial  than  those  of  Kissingen, 
and  the  Phillipses  were  glad  to  devote  the  autumn, 
which  was  a  delightful  one,  to  travel  in  Switzerland 
and  northern  Italy.  Leaving  Germany  by  way  of 
Heidelberg,  their  course  took  them  to  the  Falls  of 
the  Rhine,  Zurich  and  Lake  Lucerne,  Berne,  Inter- 
laken  (  "  over  that  gem  of  a  lake  by  Thun  "),  the 
Staubbach  and  Wengern  Alp,  and  Lausanne,  and 
in  October  they  crossed  the  Simplon  to  Milan. 


10  ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 

"  After  a  fortnight  of  glorious  weather,"  wrote  Mr. 
Phillips  (from  Florence,  November  19),  "  we  started 
for  Florence  by  Bologna,  that  jewel  of  a  city,  .  .  . 
for  she  admits  women  to  be  professors  in  her  uni 
versity,  her  gallery  guards  their  paintings,  her  pal 
aces  boast  their  sculptures.  I  gloried  in  standing 
before  a  woman-professor's  monument  set  up  side 
by  side  with  that  of  the  illustrious  Galvani." 

In  January,  1841,  they  were  staying  at  Leghorn 
for  the  sake  of  the  sea-breezes,  and  three  months 
later  they  were  at  Naples,  whence  Mr.  Phillips 
wrote  (April  12)  to  Mr.  Garrison:  "Nothing 
brings  home  so  pleasantly,  or  with  so  much  vivid 
ness,  to  Ann,  as  seeing  a  colored  man  occasionally 
in  the  street ;  so  you  see  we  are  ready  to  return  to 
our  posts  in  nothing  changed." 

They  came  back  to  England  by  way  of  Paris,  and 
spent  the  last  half  of  June  in  London,  with  Miss 
Pease,  finally  sailing  from  Liverpool  for  home  on 
the  4th  of  July.1  After  their  return  they  passed  a 
few  weeks  with  Mr.  Phillips's  mother  at  her  sum 
mer  home  in  Nahant,  which  Mrs.  Phillips  thus  de 
scribes  :  — 

"  Picture  to  yourself  a  great  wooden  house,  with 
doors  and  blinds  as  usual,  a  mile  from  any  other 
habitation,  little  grass  and  fewer  trees,  and  you 
have  Phillips's  Cliff.  The  village  of  Nahant  is 
about  a  mile  from  our  house ;  there  Dame  Fashion 

1  The  silhouette  of  Mrs.  Phillips  which  forms  the  frontis 
piece  of  this  Memorial,  and  is  believed  to  be  the  only  por 
trait  ever  made  of  her,  was  cut  just  before  they  left  London. 


ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS.  11 

struts  about  three  months  of  summer,  but  we  have 
the  blessing  of  being  out  of  her  way  and  doing  as 
we  please.  Here  dwells,  in  summer,  Wendell's 
mother ;  one  of  her  daughters  with  five  children  one 
side  of  tho  house,  we  with  her  in  the  other.  What 
with  fifteen  children  and  twenty  grandchildren  at 
intervals  dropping  in  upon  her,  you  see  she  is  not 
alone.  We  rise  about  seven,  breakfast  at  half 
past.  Wendell  rows  the  boat  for  exercise ;  bathes. 
I  walk  with  him  in  the  morning  ;  dine  at  two ;  in 
the  afternoon  we  ride  with  Mother ;  tea  at  seven ; 
in  the  evening  we  play  chess  or  back-gammon 
with  her,  or  some  brother  and  sister  come  to  pass 
the  night,  and  we  dispute  away  on  the  great  ques 
tions.  We  are  considered  as  heretics  and  almost 
infidels,  but  we  pursue  the  even  tenor  of  our  way 
undisturbed.  Sometimes  Wendell  goes  off  aboli- 
tionizing  for  two  or  three  days,  but  I  remain  on 
the  ground." 

In  November  of  the  same  year  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Phillips  moved  into  the  modest  brick  house  num 
bered  26  Essex  Street,  which  remained  their  home 
for  more  than  forty  years.  It  was  barely  large 
enough  for  the  accommodation  of  themselves  and 
the  necessary  servants,  and  as  Mrs.  Phillips's  ill- 
health  prevented  their  entertaining  visitors,  it 
seemed  wise  to  select  a  house  which  afforded  no 
temptation  for  doing  so.  A  dining-room  and 
kitchen  were  on  the  first  floor,  a  double  parlor  of 
diminutive  size,  but  bright  and  sunny  and  making 
a  cheerful  study,  on  the  second,  and  small  cham- 


12  ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 

bers  in  the  third  and  attic  stories.  One  of  the  first 
letters  from  the  new  home  was  addressed  (by  Mr. 
Phillips)  to  Elizabeth  Pease,  and  dated  November 
25,  1841 :  — 

"  I  am  writing  in  our  own  parlor  —  wish  you 
were  in  it  —  on  '  Thanksgiving  Day.'  Did  you  ever 
hear  of  that  name  ?  'T  is  an  old  custom  in  New 
England,  begun  to  thank  God  for  a  providential 
arrival  of  food  from  the  mother-country  in  sixteen 
hundred  and  odd  year,  and  perpetuated  now  wher 
ever  a  New  Englander  dwells,  some  time  in  autumn, 
by  the  Governor's  appointment.  All  is  hushed  of 
business  about  me ;  the  devout  pass  the  morning 
at  church ;  those  who  have  wandered  to  [other] 
cities  hurry  back  to  worship  to-day  where  their 
fathers  knelt,  and  gather  sons  and  grandsons,  to 
the  littlest  prattler,  under  the  old  roof -tree  to  — 
shall  I  break  the  picture  ?  —  to  cram  as  much  tur 
key  and  plum-pudding  as  possible ;  a  sort  of  com 
promise  by  Puritan  love  of  good  eating  for  denying 
itself  that  '  wicked  papistrie,'  Christmas." 

A  humorous  account  follows  of  the  first  trials  of 
the  young  housekeepers  with  unpromising  servants, 
and  there  is  mention  of  a  friend's  calling  and  find 
ing  him  sawing  a  piece  of  soapstone  :  — 

"  I  set  to  work  to  fix  a  chimney,  having  a  great 
taste  for  carpentering  and  mason-work.  (When  I 
set  up  for  a  gentleman,  there  was  a  good  mechanic 
spoiled,  Ann  says.)  .  .  .  Ann's  health  is  about  the 
same.  She  gets  tired  out  every  day  trying  to  over 
see  'the  keeping  house,'  as  we  Americans  call  it 


ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS.  13 

when  two  persons  take  more  rooms  than  they  need, 
buy  double  the  things  they  want,  hire  two  or  three 
others,  just,  for  all  the  world,  for  the  whole  five  to 
devote  themselves  to  keeping  the  establishment  in 
order.  I  long  for  the  time  when  there  '11  be  no  need 
of  sweeping  and  dusting,  and  when  eating  will  be 
forgotten." 

Four  months  later  Mrs.  Phillips  takes  up  the 
pen  to  give  "  some  little  insight  into  in-door  life  at 
No.  26  Essex  Street "  :  — 

"  There  is  your  Wendell  seated  in  the  arm-chair, 
lazy  and  easy  as  ever,  perhaps  a  little  fatter  than 
when  you  saw  him,  still  protesting  how  he  was 
ruined  by  marrying.  Your  humble  servant  looks 
like  the  Genius  of  Famine,  as  she  always  did,  one 
of  Pharaoh's  lean  kine.  She  laughs  considerably, 
continues  in  health  in  the  same  naughty  way,  has 
been  pretty  well,  for  her,  this  winter.  Now  what 
do  you  think  her  life  is  ?  Why,  she  strolls  out  a 
few  steps  occasionally,  calling  it  a  walk ;  the  rest 
of  the  time,  from  bed  to  sofa,  from  sofa  to  rocking- 
chair;  reads  generally  the  Standard  and  Libera 
tor,  and  that  is  pretty  much  all  the  literature  her 
aching  head  will  allow  her  to  peruse ;  rarely  writes 
a  letter,  sees  no  company,  makes  no  calls,  looks  for 
ward  to  spring  and  birds,  when  she  will  be  a  little 
freer ;  is  cross  very  often,  pleasant  at  other  times, 

loves  her  dear  L and  thinks  a  great  deal  of 

her  ;  and  now  you  have  Ann  Phillips. 

"  Now  I  '11  take  up  another  strain.  This  winter 
has  been  marked  to  us  by  our  keeping  house  for 


14  ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 

the  first  time.  I  call  it  housekeeping ;  but,  alas ! 
we  have  not  the  pleasure  of  entertaining  angels, 
awares  or  unawares.  We  have  a  small  house,  but 
large  enough  for  us,  only  a  few  rooms  furnished,  — 
just  enough  to  try  to  make  me  more  comfortable 
than  at  board.  But  then  I  am  not  well  enough  even 
to  have  friends  to  tea,  so  that  all  I  strive  to  do  is  to 
keep  the  house  neat  and  keep  myself  about.  I  have 
attended  no  meetings  since  I  helped  fill  4  the  negro 
pew.'  What  anti-slavery  news  I  get,  I  get  second 
hand.  I  should  not  get  along  at  all,  so  great  is 
my  darkness,  were  it  not  for  Wendell  to  tell  me 
that  the  world  still  is  going.  .  .  .  We  are  very 
happy,  and  only  have  to  regret  my  health  being  so 
poor,  and  our  own  sinfulness.1  Dear  Wendell 
speaks  whenever  he  can  leave  me,  and  for  his  sake 
I  sometimes  wish  I  were  myself  again ;  but  I  dare 
say  it  is  all  right  as  it  is." 

One  more  extract  must  suffice,  and  this  from  a 
letter  written  by  Mr.  Phillips  in  August,  1854,  to 
the  same  dear  and  intimate  friend :  — 

"  We  are  this  summer  at  Milton,  one  of  the 
most  delightful  of  our  country  towns,  about  ten 
miles  from  Boston.  Ann's  brother  has  a  place 
here,  and  we  are  with  him.  She  is  as  usual  — 
little  sleep,  very  weak,  never  goes  down -stairs,  in 
most  excellent  and  cheerful  spirits,  interested  keenly 

1  Her  sad  experience  of  invalidism  made  her  anxious  for 
the  good  health  of  her  friends,  a  solicitude  often  expressed 
in  her  letters.  To  a  blooming  young  bride  who  called  on 
her  she  said  :  "  You  are  healthy,  aren't  you,  dear  ?  " 


ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS.  15 

in  all  good  things,  and,  I  sometimes  tell  her,  so 
much  my  motive  and  prompter  to  every  good  thing 
that  I  fear,  should  I  lose  her,  there  'd  be  nothing 
of  me  left  worth  your  loving." 

To  the  few  intimates  whom  Mrs.  Phillips  allowed 
to  visit  her  freely  there  was  seldom  any  symptom  of 
depression  or  despondency  visible.  The  sunny 
south  chamber,  having  an  outlook  down  Harrison 
Avenue,  was  bright  with  flowers,  of  which  the  in 
valid  was  passionately  fond.  In  midwinter  she 
would  have  nasturtiums,  smilax,  and  costly  ex 
otics,  later  the  brilliant  tulips,  and  then  the  blos 
soms  of  spring,  the  May-flowers  and  anemones,  un 
til  the  garden  rose  and  sweetbrier  appeared.  All 
these  were  supplied  by  loving  hands  and  caused 
her  unceasing  delight.  Nor  did  her  personal  ap 
pearance  often  betoken  invalidism.  She  had  good 
color,  a  strong  voice  and  hearty  laugh,  so  that  it 
was  difficult  to  think  her  ill.  Conversation  never 
flagged.  She  was  eager  to  hear  about  and  to  dis 
cuss  the  news  of  the  day,  especially  in  anti-slavery 
and  reformatory  lines  ;  she  took  the  warmest  inter 
est  in  the  affairs  of  her  friends,  and  to  the  poor 
and  needy,  who  brought  stories  of  sorrow  and  suf 
fering  and  wrongs  endured,  her  and  her  husband's 
sympathy  and  aid  were  freely  given.  There  was 
no  lack  of  cheer,  and  merriment,  and  sparkling 
humor  from  husband  and  wife,  when  two  or  three 
chosen  friends  were  gathered  in  the  sick-room,  and 
shouts  of  laughter  from  it  resounded  through  the 
house.  "  Gay  as  the  gayest  bird  is  Ann  T.  Greene," 


16  ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 

was  written  of  her  by  a  rhyming  schoolmate  when 
she  was  a  girl,  and  she  continued  to  merit  the 
characterization.  She  was  very  fond  of  music,  as 
was  her  father  before  her;  and,  debarred  from 
going  to  concerts,  she  found  pleasure  in  listening 
to  the  strains  of  the  hand-organs  which  were  fre 
quently  played  beneath  her  window. 

Her  pecuniary  contributions  to  the  anti-slavery 
cause  were  constant  and  liberal ;  but  the  contribu 
tion  which  caused  her  far  more  self-denial  was  to 
encourage  and  urge  her  husband  to  leave  her  and 
go  off  "  abolitionizing  "  for  a  few  days,  and  now 
and  then  to  make  an  extended  tour  westward ;  but, 
as  a  rule,  he  would  rarely  absent  himself  from 
home  more  than  two  or  three  days,  and  usually 
only  for  a  night  at  a  time,  when  his  lecture  engage 
ments  were  so  far  away  as  to  make  it  impossible 
for  him  to  return  home  the  same  evening.  He 
daily  visited  the  markets  in  search  of  delicacies  to 
gratify  the  invalid's  appetite,  and  could  often  be 
seen  wending  his  way  homeward,  his  hands  full  of 
parcels  for  "Ann."  In  the  summer  they  would 
go  into  the  country  for  two  or  three  months,  occa 
sionally  experimenting  with  the  water-cure  and 
other  methods  of  treatment  for  Mrs.  Phillips,  all 
of  which  proved  futile.  One  of  these  was  mesmer 
ism,  and,  speaking  of  the  difficulty  of  finding  a 
good  operator  in  it,  and  of  her  husband's  being  the 
best  she  had  had,  Mrs.  Phillips  wrote,  humorously 
(January  31,  1846)  :  "  So  the  poor,  devoted  Wen 
dell  is  caught,  one  hour  of  his  busy  day,  and  seated 


ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS.  17 

down  to  hold  my  thumbs  /  .  .  .  I  grow  sicker  every 
year,  Wendell  lovelier,  I  more  desponding,  he  al 
ways  cheery  and  telling  me  that  I  shall  live  not 
only  to  be  '  fat  and  forty,'  but  fat  and  scolding  at 
eighty !  "  The  letter  continues :  — 

"  Dear  Wendell  has  met  with  a  sad  affliction  this 
fall  in  the  death  of  his  mother,  who  left  us  in  No 
vember.  She  was  everything  to  him,  —  indeed,  to 
all  her  children  ;  a  devoted  mother  and  uncommon 
woman.1  ...  So  poor  unworthy  I  am  more  of  a 
treasure  to  Wendell  than  ever,  and  a  pretty  frail 
one.  For  his  sake  I  should  love  to  live ;  for  my 
own  part  I  am  tired,  not  of  life  but  of  a  sick  one. 
I  meet  with  but  little  sympathy,  for  these  long  cases 
are  looked  upon  as  half,  if  not  wholly,  make-be 
lieves,  —  as  if  playing  well  would  not  be  far  better 
than  playing  sick.  I  value  your  love  and  sympa 
thy  only  the  more  that  I  find  so  few  who  know  how 
to  feel  for  me." 

A  new  and  delightful  element  came  into  their 
childless  home  when  they  received,  in  1850,  the 
little  orphaned  daughter  of  Mrs.  Eliza  Garnaut, 
one  of  the  noblest  and  most  self-sacrificing  women 

1  "  Dear  Ann  has  spoken  of  my  dear  mother's  death,"  wrote 
Mr.  Phillips  on  the  same  sheet.  "My  good,  noble,  dear 
mother  !  We  differed  utterly  on  the  matter  of  slavery,  and 
she  grieved  a  good  deal  over  what  she  thought  was  a  waste 
of  my  time,  and  a  sad  disappointment  to  her;  but  still  I  am 
always  best  satisfied  with  myself  when  I  fancy  I  can  see  any 
thing  in  me  which  reminds  me  of  my  mother.  She  lived  in 
her  children,  and  they  almost  lived  in  her,  and  the  world  is 
a  different  one,  now  she  is  gone." 


18  ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 

who  ever  walked  the  streets  of  Boston ;  who  liter 
ally  spent  herself  for  others,  and  died  a  victim  to 
her  unselfish  devotion  in  1849.  Mr.  Phillips's 
beautiful  tribute  to  her  will  be  found  in  the  Lib 
erty  Bell  for  1851.  The  little  girl,  who  now  be 
came  as  a  daughter  to  them,  was  a  constant  joy 
to  them  both.  "Ann  busies  herself  with  lessons 
and  French  exercises  as  when  she  herself  went  to 
school,"  wrote  Mr.  Phillips,  who  himself  took  pleas 
ure  in  directing  the  child's  education,  and  found 
in  her  a  bright  and  loving  companion  until  mar 
riage  took  her  away  to  another  city,  and  finally  to 
a  foreign  land. 

For  some  years  Essex  Street  was  the  centre  of 
the  small  anti  -  slavery  community  of  Boston. 
Within  five  minutes'  walk  to  the  south  lived  Fran 
cis  Jackson,  and  Samuel  and  Mary  May,  on  Hollis 
Street,  and  the  Garrison  family,  on  Dix  Place. 
Not  much  farther  away,  in  the  opposite  direction, 
were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ellis  Gray  Loring,  on  Winter 
Street ;  while  just  around  the  corner,  to  the  north, 
were  Theodore  Parker's  house,  on  Exeter  Place, 
Miss  Mary  G.  Chapman's,  on  Chauncy  Street,  —  the 
Boston  home  of  the  Weston  sisters  and  Mrs.  Chap 
man,  when  they  came  to  the  city, — and  Charles 
F.  Hovey's,  on  Kingston  Street.  Mr.  Phillips  has 
told  how  often,  as  he  looked  from  his  own  chamber 
window  late  at  night,  when  some  lecture  engage 
ment  had  brought  him  home  in  the  small  hours  of 
the  morning,  he  saw  the  unquenched  light  burning 
in  Theodore  Parker's  study  —  "  that  unflagging 
student  ever  at  work." 


ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS.  19 

One  by  one  these  friends  died  or  moved  away ; 
Essex  Street,  so  long  a  quiet,  respectable  street, 
occupied  wholly  by  residences,  was  gradually  in 
vaded  by  business  stores ;  the  neighborhood  became 
infested  with  drinking-saloons,  and  the  whole  char 
acter  of  the  locality  changed.  Friends  wondered 
how  the  Phillipses  could  endure  to  remain  there, 
but  they  clung  to  their  old  home l  with  the  most 
passionate  attachment;  and  when,  in  1882,  the 
building  was  finally  condemned  to  removal  by  the 
city  authorities,  for  the  purpose  of  widening  and 
extending  the  adjacent  streets,  they  left  it  with  the 
greatest  reluctance  and  sorrow.  Another  small 
house,  singularly  resembling  it  in  many  respects, 
was  found  at  37  Common  Street,  and  rented  by 
them,  but  they  could  never  become  reconciled  to 
it,  or  make  it  seem  homelike.  Mrs.  Phillips's  ill 
ness  had  deepened  before  they  left  Essex  Street. 

1  The  view  of  the  Essex  Street  house  which  is  given  in 
the  accompanying  picture,  is  from  a  photograph  taken  in 
1882  by  Mr.  J.  W.  Black,  who  has  kindly  permitted  its  repro 
duction  here.  Mrs.  Phillips's  chamber  was  in  the  third  story, 
above  her  husband's  study,  and  during  the  turbulent  winter 
of  1860-61  she  could  look  out  upon  the  crowds  (composed  of 
both  friends  and  mobocrats)  that  followed  Mr.  Phillips  home 
from  his  Sunday  morning  discourses  at  Music  Hall,  and  gath 
ered  in  a  surging  mass  before  the  house. 

The  vignette  on  the  title-page  is  a  portrait  of  Mr.  Phillips 
standing  in  his  doorway,  —  an  admirable  and  characteristic 
likeness.  The  soft  gray  hat,  the  coat,  the  graceful  figure 
and  fine  profile,  will  be  recognized  at  once  by  all  who  were 
familiar  with  his  appearance  as  he  daily  walked  the  streets 
of  his  beloved  city. 


20  ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 

In  little  more  than  a  year  after  they  went  to  Com 
mon  Street,  her  devoted  and  tireless  husband,  nurse, 
and  care-taker  was  suddenly  snatched  from  her, 
and  after  that  irreparable  loss  she  secluded  herself 
more  than  ever  from  her  friends,  endured  constant 
suffering,  and  gradually  failed,  until  death  came 
as  a  merciful  release.  On  the  night  of  Friday, 
April  23,  she  became  unconscious  and  fell  into  a 
deep  sleep  that  knew  no  waking,  and  before  mid 
night  on  Saturday  she  ceased  to  breathe. 

The  few  life-long  friends  who  were  privileged 
to  look  upon  her  face  the  following  Easter  morn 
ing  were  startled  by  its  expression.  She  lay  as  if 
asleep,  with  all  the  purity  and  guilelessness  of  her 
youthful  face  ripened  to  maturity.  It  seemed 
transfiguration,  and  the  memory  of  it  will  always 
be  a  joy  and  an  inspiration. 

"  Knowledge  by  suffering  entereth, 
And  life  is  perfected  by  death." 


At  the  simple  funeral  service  which  was  held  at 
the  house  on  Wednesday  noon,  April  28,  her  and 
her  husband's  friend,  Rev.  Samuel  May  of  Leices 
ter,  Mass.,  read  a  portion  of  the  Burial  Service  of 
the  King's  Chapel  Book  of  Prayer,  and  made  the 
following  beautiful  and  comforting  remarks  :  — 

"We  stand  again  at  the  parting  of  the  ways. 
Again  a  mortal  pilgrimage  has  closed,  and  a  life 


ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS.  21 

unfettered  by  mortal  conditions  has  begun.  The 
natural  body  has  done  and  borne  to  the  utmost ;  its 
burdens,  pains,  and  griefs  have  ceased  forever. 
Now  she,  who  has  been  an  almost  life-long  prisoner, 
wellnigh  unable  to  move  from  one  narrow  spot, 
may  '  awake  and  run  the  heavenly  race,'  and  know 
a  strange  freedom  amidst  heaven's  pure  airs,  amidst 
the  '  solemn  troops  and  sweet  societies '  of  those 
she  had  loved  and  lost,  and  of  that  greater  multi 
tude  whom  she  had  borne  on  her  heart  from  her 
youth, —  to  soothe  and  relieve  whose  wrongs  and 
sufferings  had  so  long  been  the  solace  of  her  own 
grief  and  pain. 

"  Would  that  some  one  stood  in  my  place  to  bear 
such  full  testimony  to  her  life  as  it  has  so  richly 
merited  at  our  hands.  Would  that  a  voice  as  elo 
quent,  a  perception  of  her  worth  as  just  as  were  his 
who  rendered  her  loyal  and  loving  service  so  long, 
could  now  testify  to  the  life  which,  with  all  its 
hindrances,  limitations,  and  clouds,  we  must  de 
clare  —  for  its  truth,  patience,  depth  of  feeling, 
unfaltering  faith,  and  undaunted  courage  —  to  have 
been  nothing  less  than  sublime. 

"  There  is  no  need  that  I  should  much  enlarge 
upon  this  strange,  though  uneventful,  life,  known 
to  you  better  than  to  me.  In  the  silence  of  our 
thoughts  we  trace  her  long  life  from  childhood  to 
beyond  the  verge  of  threescore  years  and  ten. 
Who  of  us  can  fitly  measure  those  protracted  years, 
to  which  health  was  a  stranger,  but  which  her  over 
mastering  will  saved  from  dull  acquiescence  and 


22  ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 

mere  endurance,  and  made  a  living  spring,  a  per 
petual  fountain  of  beneficence,  of  hope  and  glad 
ness,  to  many  of  the  neediest  of  earth  ?  Her  young 
girl's  heart  was  good  soil  for  the  first  lessons  of 
anti-slavery  truth.  That  great,  but  scarcely  rec 
ognized,  cause  found  in  her  a  keen  intelligence, 
a  quick  conscience,  a  genuine  sympathy.  When 
probably  not  one  of  her  young  friends,  beyond  her 
immediate  kindred,  would  have  bestowed  a  thought, 
or  only  a  contemptuous  one,  upon  the  wrongs  of 
the  enslaved  millions  of  a  boastful  and  blinded 
republic,  she  accepted  the  obligation  at  once  and 
made  those  wrongs  the  care  of  her  daily  life. 
Wendell  Phillips,  her  young  lover,  was  led  by  her 
to  see  the  greatness  of  the  cause  and  its  claims  on 
him  and  every  true  American,  and  ever  owned  his 
indebtedness  to  her  for  that  light  and  for  the  great 
impulse  which  bound  him  to  its  service.  He  once 
told  me  that,  in  Paris,  they  met  in  the  street,  one 
day,  a  black  man,  and  she  exclaimed  with  evident 
pleasure :  '  How  good  it  is  to  see  a  black  face 
again !  '  How  should  we  thank  God  for  those 
noble  natures  which  never  forget  duty,  which  never 
turn  their  backs  on  a  principle,  however  disre 
garded  by  men,  and  which,  by  their  steadfast  ad 
herence  to  it,  instruct  and  inspire  multitudes,  and 
make  the  triumph  not  only  possible,  but  sure ! 

"  From  the  time  of  her  return  to  America  her 
fate  as  a  sufferer  seemed  to  be  sealed.  Still  her 
spirit  was  onward,  clear-sighted,  vigilant,  sending 
forth  messages  of  cheer  and  warning  as  she  saw 


ANN  TERRY   GREENE  PHILLIPS.  23 

need.  With  most  of  us  a  kind  of  mystery  came  to 
envelop  her.  Years  and  years  passed;  we  never 
saw  her ;  but  we  always  read  the  name  ANN  T.  G. 
PHILLIPS  among  the  foremost  in  every  call  to  ac 
tion,  in  every  acknowledgment  of  help.  She  was  a 
recognized  power,  though  unseen.  She  was  a  strong 
helper,  though  in  such  bodily  weakness.  For  hers 
were  will,  courage,  and  faith  —  mighty  through 
God  to  do  all  things.  In  her  enforced  seclusion 
she  often  saw  more  clearly  than  her  husband  the 
special  work  for  him  to  do ;  and  he  was  accustomed 
to  be  largely  guided  by  her  counsel. 

"What  unfathomable  mysteries  surround  us! 
The  ways  of  our  human  life  are  often  in  thick 
darkness.  Although  disease  and  pain  had  long 
borne  her  down,  —  their  burden  never  lifted,  — 
a  severer  trial,  a  bitterer  burden,  was  yet  to  visit 
her.  What  none  could  have  anticipated,  the  strong 
and  active  man,  on  whom  she  so  depended,  was  to 
be  taken  away,  and  she  in  her  helplessness  was  to 
be  left !  If  this  terrible  blow  should  have  some 
what  disturbed  her  mind's  balance,  who  can  won 
der  ?  If,  in  her  deepening  suffering,  bodily  and 
mental,  she  sometimes  cried  out  for  a  relief  and 
help  which  never  in  the  flesh  could  come  to  her, 
was  it  surprising  ?  '  Having  been  a  little  afflicted,' 
said  the  wise  man  of  old,  i  they  shall  be  greatly  re 
warded.'  We  reverently  thank  God  for  those  two 
grand,  yes,  wonderful,  lives,  which  so  singularly 
supplemented  each  other.  In  one  sense  they  are 
lost  to  us ;  but,  in  a  far  higher,  they  become  the 


24         ANN  TERRY  GREENE  PHILLIPS. 

eternal  possession  of  all  true  and  faithful  souls. 
Separated  for  a  little  while,  we  rejoice  in  the  faith 
that  ANN  AND  WENDELL  PHILLIPS  walk  hand  in 
hand  once  more. 

'  Sweet  fields  beyond  the  swelling  flood 
Stand  dressed  in  living  green.' 

Oh,  that  it  may,  in  infinite  mercy,  be  given  us  to 
have  an  entrance  there,  —  they  and  we  together 
entering  into  the  joy  of  our  Lord !  " 

After  Mr.  May  had  finished,  Mrs.  Lucy  Stone 
and  Mrs.  Julia  Ward  Howe  spoke  with  deep  feel 
ing  and  appreciation  of  Mrs.  Phillips,  and  in  felic 
itous  characterization  of  her  noble  qualities,  and 
then  the  kindred,  with  a  few  near  friends,  followed 
the  remains  of  both  ANN  AND  WENDELL  PHILLIPS 
(the  latter's  being  now  removed  from  their  tem 
porary  resting-place  in  the  Old  Granary  Burying- 
Ground)  to  the  beautiful  cemetery  at  Milton. 
They  were  buried  side  by  side  in  the  same  grave, 
in  a  spot  which  Mr.  Phillips  had  himself  selected, 
a  year  or  two  before  his  death.  A  noble  pine-tree 
stands  near  it,  and  the  view,  before  the  foliage  is 
out,  is  extensive  and  charming.  Nature,  in  her 
early  spring  mood,  could  not  have  given  a  brighter 
or  lovelier  day,  or  one  more  fitting  for  an  occasion 
where  sorrow  had  no  place,  and  there  could  be  only 
joy  and  thanksgiving  for  the  reunion  of  two  noble 
souls. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 

25Feb'59GM 


INTER-LIORARV 


LOAM 


DEC  15  197! 


«tb  2-6  1985 

MC.C&JW25W 
JUN  2  6  IQfiq 

UM  2  1 


LD  21A-50m-9,'58 
(6889slO)476B 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


GENERAL  LIBRARY  -  U.C.  BERKELEY 


B00072cl7a2 


